Mistake
by Jocasta Silver
Summary: He was an accident, and the one thing he wanted, was the one thing he could never have. Winner of the Veritas Award for Best Original Character.


Author's Note: I got this idea back in April, and have been working on it, off and on over the summer. I hope you enjoy it.

Mistake

Mistake. Never should have been born. Forbidden. Abomination. That is what people call me these days, if they even bother to speak to me at all. To them, I am taboo, never to be spoken of or even thought of. But underneath those words is a person who longs for a loving family, a wish that can never be granted.

….

My first memories are of my father, Kevin, and the small two bedroom house we lived in on the outskirts of Kansas City, Kansas. I was lucky in the respect that my father loved me, and only sent me to room if I misbehaved. For the early part of my childhood having my father was enough. It wasn't until I was five that I first asked about Mom.

"What happened to Mommy?"

"What brought up this question Jeffrey?" my father asked, for once not teasing me about being his "inquisitive son", or affectionately bear hugging me.

"Jenny said that everyone has a mommy and a daddy," I said, not mentioning that she had called me a freak for not having a mom, when everyone else in the neighborhood did.

"Your mother was a brave and kind woman. She was beautiful, and a true leader. You have her blue-green eyes."

"Did she"- I hesitated afraid to say the word-"die?"

"No," Dad replied, his blue eyes looking past me. "She had to leave right after you were born."

"Why?" I asked.

"She was rich and important, and our relationship was a secret."

"But didn't she love me?" I demanded to know.

Tears welled in my father's eyes. I had never seen my father cry before. Not over what happened on the TV, not when I busted my knee, not even when we found a dead baby bird in our backyard. "Of course she loved you Jeffrey. Of course she did."

"Daddy? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine Jeffrey." Dad quickly changed the subject, asking me if I was looking forward to attending kindergarten.

I answered his questions eagerly, but a part of me wondered, _"If Mommy loved me then why did she leave?"_

….

I thought my life would always remain the same. I would live with Dad, go to school, and play with my friends. But that was before I found out that my Dad had little monsters eating him from the inside out.

"Why is Dad here?" my seven year old self demanded to know.

The nurse frowned, clearly debating whether I was old enough to handle the news. She handed me a purple lollipop which I took and after a muttered "thank you" began to suck on. She seemed nice, but I hated that grownups wouldn't explain what was wrong with my Dad. They would just smile, give me candy, and expect me to suck on the candy and stop asking the tough questions. Why was Dad sick? He did not look ill and he had not been near anyone who was sick. All I could overhear from the doctor was that my Dad's gallbladder (whatever that was) was "enlarged" and something about "lymph nodes". That was all I could hear before the nurse noticed I was there, and took me outside.

Then I heard the hollow words that would haunt me for the rest of my life. "Your father has cancer."

….

Sometimes people survive cancer, recounting stories of surgeries, radiations, and intense chemotherapy. Other times the doctors try everything that is humanly possible, and the cancer just keeps coming back. Dad was doomed from the start. He had pancreatic cancer, the deadliest of all. Worse still, the cancerous cells had already spread to his lymph nodes, so operation was impossible. Looking back on it, I realize how hard it must have been for Dad to go through the intense treatments and still put on a brave face for me. Somehow he managed to seem upbeat during the precious few times I was allowed to visit him in the hospital. I can't recall any negative things about those visits.

How I was living was another matter all together. I was forced to live with my Great Aunt Marsha who was only looking after me because Dad had asked her, and he had no other living relations. From the start, Great Aunt Marsha laid out her laws. Children were to be seen and not heard. There was to be no running through the house at cheetah speed, no pretend adventures, and absolutely no petting of her prize hound dog Chloe.

There were other strange events that were happening. Like that homeless guy who stalked me home and only left when Great Aunt Marsha threatened to call the police, and no one believed me that he only had one eye underneath his Cardinals baseball cap, right on his forehead. Or there was the time a woman with black hair and stormy gray eyes walked right by the house and disappeared right before my very eyes. I also was diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia, and on top of that, I was picked on by most of the other kids. I had some friends, but most of everyone at school thought I was a loser.

When I asked Dad about it, he always closed his eyes, as if reminiscing about the past. Then he would open them and say, "I'll tell you when you're older Jeffrey."

That was the most annoying answer I could ever get.

….

It was a warm spring day. I could smell the wildflowers and prairie grass. I was excited to see Dad and show off the A- I got on my math quiz. I hopped on the city bus and took it to the hospital.

When I got there and checked in with the receptionist, she looked at me in shock. "I'll get Dr. Warren," she told me. "Wait right here."

I sat in the plaid armchair in the reception room. When the doctor came I already knew. Dad was gone and I knew the truth. Mom did not love me.

"If she loved me," I thought. "She would have come here." I sat and I sobbed.

….

Great Aunt Marsha dumped me at a foster home, because she could no longer care for me (big surprise).

At some foster homes, the "veteran kids" beat me to a pulp and expected me to worship the ground they walked. At other places, they would listen to my story and nod in sympathy reminiscing on their old lives. But still, none of the foster homes gave me what I really wanted, a family.

….

After three years, I could not stand it any longer. I packed the few clothes I owned, along with some food and money into a backpack. I crept down the rickety backstairs into the alleyway.

"Where are you off too Tenderfoot?" The "veteran" kid Hercules (no one knew what his real name was) leaned against the foster home. He had a cigarette in his hand and every few seconds he moved it to his lips and inhaled with a puff. He was older than me, maybe fifteen, but he seemed even older with his six feet two inches of height and his broad muscular shoulders.

"I'm running away," I replied. It wasn't as if Hercules would report me to the foster parents. Half frankly, they could care less if I ran away.

Hercules exhaled, sending a cloud of smoke into the air. "Why? You can do whatever you want and folks won't give a damn."

"That's kind of the point. What's the point of staying here if I don't get what I want, a family?"

Hercules put the cigarette once more to his lips and inhaled as he thought. "Kid, I looked for a family at one point and see where it got me. In a foster home, where the people won't give a damn if I drop dead this minute or die of lung cancer. Families are imperfect."

"That's kind of the point. Maybe the point is that you love and care for a family _in spite_ of its imperfections."

Hercules exhaled and shrugged. "Whatever. It ain't my problem. But if I were you I would blend in more, be more careful. The foster parents here might not care about you, but the police are going to go berserk looking for you."

I wasn't sure what to say. The "veteran" guy who smoked and was involved in other shady business dealings was telling me to be careful. "Um sure," I replied. "Thanks."

"Just don't get caught kiddo," he replied before returning to smoking his cigarette. I nodded and crept off letting the foster home disappear into the back ground as I faded into the night.

….

Turns out, Hercules was right. The police went nuts looking for me. For the first month or so, I was constantly evading them, knowing that it was the only way to stay out of the foster homes where people did not care about me. It wasn't just the police though. Monsters were chasing me. I had quickly accepted that were supernatural aspects to the world.

Looking back on it, I realize how naïve and vulnerable I was. I'm not sure if I would have survived much longer if _they_ had not found me.

….

I crouched down behind a dumpster. I could hear a strange noise. Being on the run for three months had sharpened my senses. I could hear voices. They were loud, so they must be standing nearby, maybe even right next to the dumpster.

"Can you hear that?" one of the voices was male.

"I don't hear anything Chris." That voice was definitely younger and female. "I still don't understand why Luke has us do these "patrols". Why go out here? We're practically asking monsters to attack us?"

"Luke believes that we will find and recruit other half-bloods this way," Chris replied. "The more half-bloods we have, the stronger the Titans become."

_"This is weird,"_ I thought. These people were probably criminals of some sort. Who else would use code words like "half-blood" and "Titans"?

"Well. I still hear something. And I think it's behind this dumpster."

Oh no. They would find me. Where could I go? Should I make a dash for it and hope they don't give chase? Should I jump into the trash bin and hide in there?

Too late, they rounded the corner. The guy was a tall Hispanic with dark hair and brown eyes. The girl was Caucasian with black hair and midnight blue eyes. I leaped up and held the backpack, ready to throw it if necessary.

"Whoa kid, relax," Chris said. "We're not going to hurt you."

"What's your name?" the girl asked. She spoke so quietly that she might have well whispered.

Instead of answering, I glared. "What kind of people are you? I don't know what the heck you are, but I know this much. You guys are involved in bad stuff."

The girl gasped and glared at me as if I had just insulted her grandmother, but Chris remained calm. "We're not bad guys. We help kids like you who get chased by monsters."

"How did you know about the monsters?" I could not believe that this guy knew about them. It was as if he had read my mind or something.

"The point is you're a half-blood like me and Tamasis." Chris gestured towards the girl who was still glaring at me.

"What the heck is a half-blood?" I knew there was something that made me different from other kids, but I had to know what it was that made me different.

"A half-blood is a person who is half-human and half-god," Tamasis explained. She had stopped glaring at me. "Like in Greek Mythology."

"What? But I don't-"

"Come with us. We'll explain along the way. Um, what's your name?"

I was unsure about what to do. I could not stay on the streets. Monsters would kill me, or worse the police would catch me and send me to another foster home. It wasn't as if I had another choice.

"Jeffrey," I replied. "Jeffrey Goldstein."

….

The Titan Army wasn't too bad. For one, I had three meals and a safe place to sleep. I also had two very loyal friends, Chris Rodriguez and Tamasis Rivera. They weren't much of a family, but they would do for now. I also knew the truth about Mom. She was just a Greek goddess who had a fling with Dad before dumping a baby on his doorstep and leaving. That was all I was to her garbage to be thrown out before it stank up her house. Though, it wasn't until a month after I had joined that I really thought about her.

"Who do you suppose our godly parents are?" Tamasis wondered as she ate a slice of pepperoni Domino's pizza on the deck of the Princess Andromeda.

Chris scoffed as he bit into his slice of pizza. "Doesn't matter, they don't care about us."

"I know," Tamasis replied. "I just wondered."

"Was it your mom or your dad?" I asked.

"My mom," Tamasis replied. "Dad met her one night in the parking lot of the university where he was taking graduate courses. He invited her home, and they had me."

"My dad," Chris explained. "Mom met him at the post office where she worked. He left before Mom even knew she was pregnant."

"My dad did not talk about Mom much. All I know was that he called her a "true leader" and a "mighty warrior". That's why my middle name is Madison." When Chris gave me an inquisitive glance I explained. "Madison means "son of the mighty warrior".

"So what happened to your mortal parents?" I inquired, anxious to turn the discussion away from me.

"My dad knew what my mom was. He tried to protect me by not letting me go to school or outside except on "field trips"."

"No way!"I could not believe what Tamasis' father had done to her and I felt a little sorry for her.

"So I ran away in August, three months back. I was attacked by a hellhound. Luke rescued me and I joined up." She glanced at Chris, "So Chris? What's your story?"

Chris looked down for a moment before replying. "My mom raised me until I was ten. Then, she… she had what's called a nervous breakdown. She was taken to a mental hospital and the satyr who was watching me brought me to Camp Half-Blood. I stayed there for a few years in the Hermes cabin. After a few years I realized that my godly parent wasn't going to claim me. So I ran off in September and joined Luke."

Tamasis gasped. "Chris. I'm… so sorry."

Chris shrugged. "It's ok. You didn't know."

"So what's your story Jeffrey?" Tamasis inquired.

"Well, my dad raised me until I was seven. Then he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and I moved in with my Great Aunt Marsha. When Dad died a year later, Great Aunt Marsha dumped me at a foster home. I go shunted and shunted between different foster homes for three years. Then, I ran away in July, four months back. I was on the run for three months when you guys found me."

"I'm glad we found you Jeffrey," Tamasis replied, before doing a strange thing. She hugged me tightly. I felt a kind of bond between us.

Chris broke the tension. "Come on guys. Let's go to sword practice."

Even as we dumped our plates and the empty pizza box in the trash, I couldn't get thoughts of my mom out of my mind. _"Who__was_ _she?"_ I wondered.

….

My answer came a year later from an unusual source. At least, it came from a source unusual to ordinary people, who had families, friends, and lives.

She was beautiful with long chocolate brown hair and blue-green eyes like mine. Though she was wearing just jeans and a silver t-shirt, I felt power literally radiate off her. She walked down a familiar looking street with houses on either side. It was a cold winter night, with a wind that seemed to go right through a person turning them into an ice cube. A night that no one in their right mind would be out on the streets in.

She glanced nervously down the street, though there was no else I could see. Then she walked down the sidewalk up to a familiar small light blue house, a place I had not seen in five years. She pressed the door bell, and stood there, waiting. When the door opened, I was shocked to see my dad. He was younger, with my red hair, and a heartwarming smile. Gone was the gauntness that was present in his final months, gone was the sorrow in his hazel eyes.

"Heather," he greeted my mother. "It's wonderful to see you again."

My mother merely nodded as if something was troubling her.

"Is something wrong Heather?" my father asked sympathetically.

_"Yes,"_ I screamed in my head. _"Everything about this is wrong."_

My mother hesitated, and then she closed the distance between the two of them and pressed her lips to his. At first my father was shocked by this level of intimacy, but gradually, he moved his right hand and pressed it gently against her cheek. She moved her left hand and placed it behind his neck.

I thought at first it would stop, but I gradually realized it would not stop, not until…

I woke up in shock. As the sky turned pink, then yellow as I argued with myself. What I saw could not be true, could it? But I knew deep down inside it was true, just as I knew who my godly parent was. Hera.

….

The revelation of my mother's identity was a shock for me. As far as I knew, Hera did not have half-blood children. But deep down, I knew it was true. It explained my ability to see the relationships of others, as well as my occasional moments where my temper lashed out. Still, it was my secret, kept from the others. Not even Chris and Tamasis knew. Though I think Tamasis might have suspected that I had found out who my godly parent was.

The next two years were tragic. We lost Chris a month after my revelation to the Labyrinth. And the following spring, Tamasis disappeared on a mysterious mission with Luke. When she came back, quieter and her eyes dimmed with sorrow, she refused to tell me where she had been. Still, we were close, surviving in a dark world, where you could not tell if today would be your last day. But it seemed that August of 2008 that I would make the hardest decision of my life.

….

I crouched behind the cave. Caution was the key in this mission, one false move and I would be literally turned to stone by the snake. I did not even have a mirror. It was practically a suicide mission, but it was Kronos's orders and I had to follow them, as much I hated how all the Titans had used all of us, the unwanted half-bloods, to gain revenge on the gods.

"_A suicide mission,"_ I thought in realization. It was the perfect way for Kronos to rid himself of a half-blood no longer devoted to his cause. I could not return empty handed, nor could I attempt this mission and succeed. There was only one way. Forward, away from Kronos and his manipulative ways. Away from Tamasis.

Away from Tamasis, who was waiting for me? What could I do? Tamasis cared about me. I was her only friend left, with Chris missing and Luke under Kronos's control. To leave her, would bring devastating consequences. And how could I bear it, when my feelings for her were strong?

"_You have to bear it,"_ I told myself. If I went back, Kronos would have us both killed. If I stayed away, Tamasis would be safe. It was what I had to do. I ran from the cave, leaving it behind.

My name is Jeffrey Goldstein, son of Hera. And from now on, the only person I will depend on is myself.

Author's Note: I just have a few facts I need to mention. Tamasis is a genuine name meaning "dark one". Madison really does mean "son of the mighty warrior". I know Rick Riordan doesn't mention what happened to Chris's mom, so I made up a back story. I hope you enjoyed this story. Please read and review.

Extra Note: Jeffrey doesn't die. I made a slight edit to the story so people won't get mixed up about that.


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